


Battle Wounds

by penvision



Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-05
Updated: 2016-04-05
Packaged: 2018-05-31 12:28:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6469999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/penvision/pseuds/penvision
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post Rukia's one-on-one battle with Aaroniero Arruruerie: the shape shifter that kept taking the form of Kaien. Immediately after the end of the winter war Ichigo goes to Rukia's room and demands to see her scars.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Rukia jumped in surprise and instinctively got to her feet as the door to her temporary room; little more than a medical cot, slid open.

Ichigo's frame filled the doorway, his stance tall and proud despite his torso being wrapped almost completely in white bandages, some already stained with blood, patches of skin poking through. His face was tired, pained, but determined, his mouth set in a thin line while his eyes met hers. Rukia could not bring herself to smile at the familiarity of it all: how many times has she seen his scarred chest wrapped in white? The resolute look on his face? Those piercing eyes? How many of those pale white scars were because of her? "Rukia, I-"

His eyes left hers and drifted to her stomach, gaze piercing as though if he stared hard enough he would be able to see through her kimono. A shiver ran down her spine. "Ichigo…" He slid the door shut and rested his zanpakuto against the frame before locking his gaze with hers again. Rukia watched as a flurry of emotions shifted behind his eyes, his shoulders slumped in exhaustion, skin pale from blood loss. "You should be resting-"

"I need to see it." Ichigo took an unsteady step forward, and then another, crossing the small room to stand a foot away from her. He reached out his hand towards her stomach, stopping just short of brushing the silk fabric. He swallowed. Exhaled. "I felt your reiatsu, your… I felt…-"

"Me die." His hand dropped to his side and he clenched both into fists. Rukia looked at his face, turned away from hers, staring at the ground, and then to his hand, balled up and shaking, before reaching out and taking it in her own. "I didn't." She rubbed her fingers over his knuckles.

"You were so far away." His hand opened and grasped hers, his large fingers dwarfing her little ones. But they still fit together.

"You don't need to see it."

Their eyes met, hands still clasped, and Rukia was surprised to find that she was still taken aback by the intensity of his gaze. The focus. He only saw her. "I do." She looked from his face to his chest; wrapped and bruised and bleeding and surely aching, to their intertwined hands; his fingers rough and calloused and nicked and strong and warm and soft, back to his face. Rukia sighed and dropped his hand, his fingers slipping through hers, and pulled at the tie of her kimono. She was hardly indecent underneath; covered in as many bandages as he was and wearing undergarments, but a blush still crept up her neck. Ichigo dropped to his knees with little thought to his injuries. "Where?"

Rukia touched the center of her stomach then let her hand fall to her side. Ichigo brushed over the same spot with his fingers. "Here?" He looked up at her face. She nodded. He reached behind her back, leaned forward so that she could feel his breath through the bandages, and pulled at the end of her wrappings. He slowly unwound them, silently thankful that they were not stained with blood and preparing himself for the worst. Rukia could only stare at the top of his head, absentmindedly admiring the different shades of orange that made up his hair.

He rolled the bandage up in a ball and watched her pink skin reveal itself but his hand stopped before reaching the center of her stomach. An inch long red hole marred her skin above her right hip, not yet scabbed over and close to reopening. He grabbed the ball with his right hand and rested his left on her hip, thumb brushing under the injury, before sliding his hand to her back. His fingers grazed the exit wound and his heart skipped a beat, leaving an ach in his chest. "…Rukia…" He rolled the bandage up to reveal the center stab wound and his throat constricted. Ichigo could only stare at the two wounds, a sudden rage at whoever had done this overcoming him. Rukia rested her hand on top of his before guiding it to pull the bandage to her left hip, and his hand started to shake. He had been expecting much worse than these three holes. But in actually seeing them… red, raw, deep, marring the supple skin of her belly. He traced his fingers around the wounds, careful not to touch them.

"Ichigo, it's al-"

His lips covered hers, hands cupping her face and tangling in her hair. His kiss was bruising in its force, desperate, and Rukia put her hand against his chest and pushed in surprise, but he did not break away. After a few seconds she realized that her hand must be hurting him and relaxed it. Ichigo did not deepen the kiss but he did not let her pull back either, and Rukia realized, as his hands left her face completely to tangle in her hair, that he was desperate to reassure himself: He needed to know that she was alive. That she was ok. He needed to feel the pulse of the blood in her veins and the rise and fall of her chest. The warmth of her breath. His hand slid from her hair down her neck, stopping when he felt her pulse; strong and fast, under his fingertips. He released her lips in surprise.

They stayed in that position for minutes: one hand still tangled in her hair, the other pressed against the side of her throat, their lips centimeters from each other, their eyes closed. Ichigo felt her breath against his face as thoughts started to creep into his head, but he did not want to think right now, he was suddenly incredibly tired, so he opened his eyes to find beautiful violet eyes staring into his.

Ichigo leaned in and lightly brushed his lips against hers once before pulling back a little. Rukia was taken aback by how softly he had just kissed her, how delicately his hand held her head, how gentle his eyes looked. The first kiss had been for him: desperate and forceful, but this kiss had been for her, and now he was waiting for her to make a decision. She knew that if she told him to leave he would. She remembered how her heart ached at the thought of never seeing him again as she struggled to get up from that cold, hard floor.

Rukia closed her eyes and leaned forward, brushing his lips with the same softness that he had shown, but she did not pull back, instead guiding her lips over his over and over in a peaceful rhythm. Ichigo sighed contentedly against her lips as his hand slipped back into her hair. He sucked on her bottom lip before returning to kissing her full on the mouth.

He had been in such a panic to see her that Ichigo had not allowed himself to realize how completely exhausted he was. But as all of his senses took in Rukia: her scent, her taste, the texture of her hair, he was finding himself blissfully content and very, very tired.

Ichigo released Rukia's lips and stepped back, the slightest of smiles on both of their faces. He dropped to his knees again and grabbed a fresh ball of bandages from the drawer next to her bed. Ichigo carefully began redressing Rukia's stomach, pausing to kiss her skin each time before he covered it. Satisfied with his quick work, Ichigo stood up and pulled Rukia's kimono onto her shoulders before motioning her to lay down. She slipped under the covers, exhaustion coming over her, too, and Ichigo slipped in behind her.

"Ichigo, you can't sleep here."

"Shut up." He delicately pulled her against his chest by her shoulders, careful not to stretch her wounds, and slipped his hand into hers.

"Whoever finds us-"

"It'll be fine."

"My brother-"

"Don't care." Ichigo buried his nose in Rukia's hair and squeezed her hand, pushing himself more firmly against her back. He let go of her hand to brush her hair back and kissed the nape of her neck before pulling the blankets up a little higher and finding her hand again.

"Ichigo…" But it was no use. Rukia could tell that he was already drifting off, his breaths becoming deep and even.

"…Always get into trouble… Have to… Keep you… safe… Keep you…"

"Ichigo!" No response. Rukia rolled her eyes and let out a frustrated sigh. "Idiot."


	2. Chapter 2

Ichigo lay on his back and stared at the ceiling, lost in thought, Rukia tucked against his side, her head on his shoulder and her arm on his chest, her hand over his heart. He traced patterns on her arm as she slept, fingertips dancing across her soft skin while his arm trapped by her head drew circles on her back. He had been woken by footsteps running up and down the hall as the Fourth Division began its morning routine but was content to let Rukia sleep. He was, after all, very comfortable. In fact, he would have gone back to sleep himself but the thoughts that he had managed to avoid yesterday had snuck into his mind. The happiness that he had felt when he realized Rukia was sleeping against him was slowly being replaced by guilt and confusion.

Rukia stirred against his side and he looked down as she slowly blinked sleep from her eyes. He smiled, a rare occurrence that caused her to smile in return, and kissed her temple before letting his eyes settle on the ceiling again. They lay together in comfortable silence for awhile, both lost in their own thoughts.

Rukia rubbed her fingers over the rough fabric of his bandages and took a deep, steadying breath. "Why did you kiss me, Ichigo?"

"What? Isn't it obvious?"

"Orihime. . . She loves you."

"She. . ." He sighed, a frown marring his features. "I'm not the man she believes I am. I never will be."

Rukia remained quiet.

Ichigo looked down at her. "I can feel you, when we're in the same world. When we're not. . . when you. . ." he swallowed, ". . . died. It was different than not being together." He put his hand on his chest over hers, replaying the moment he felt her die in his mind. "Like someone had taken away my heart. Orihime, Aizen, none of it mattered. Only getting to you. It shouldn't have, but it did." He squeezed her hand. "You have my heart, Rukia, whether you want it or not."

Rukia thought of Kaien's last words to her. So she was to carry Ichigo's heart, too? She felt his heartbeat under her hand; slow, strong, steady. Felt his palm on top of her fingers, his body pressed against hers, the wrappings beneath her fingers. She did not have a crush on him, not like Renji so long ago, and he did not have a crush on her. He did not make her blush or give her butterflies, and she wondered; would kissing him and laying next to him and simply being with him and falling ever so softly in love with him make her happy? Was she happy with her head on his shoulder, with her hand tucked between his hand and heart, with him holding her close? Was she happy in this moment with him, bruised and broken and exhausted? Ichigo was still watching her, waiting as he had last night, and she finally looked up to meet his eyes. Was she happy? Very. "I want it, Ichigo."

She slipped her hand out from under his and placed it on the mattress, propping herself up so that her body hovered over his, and kissed him tenderly. He closed his eyes as he returned her kiss; slow and soft and sweet. His hand left his chest to brush through her hair, his other hand rubbing against the fabric of the kimono on her hip. "I want yours," he whispered against her lips as he pulled her closer.

Rukia propped herself on her elbows and buried her hands in his hair; nails scraping his scalp. A sigh escaped his lips as Ichigo pulled her bottom lip between his teeth. She slipped her leg over his and lightly bit his bottom lip in return before sweeping her tongue over his again and again. She felt his muscles tense and relax, tense and relax, his heart beat furiously in his chest, his sporadic breaths, his trembling fingers. Every time he sighed into her mouth a shiver ran down her spine, every time he pulled his tongue back she pushed hers forward, every place his fingers touched her skin burned. His thumb brushed over the pulse point in her neck and Rukia was suddenly aware of her own racing heart. She broke the kiss and pulled back slightly, opening her eyes. Ichigo slowly opened his; dazed and unfocused, filled with lust and confusion. "You have it, Ichigo."

Ichigo cupped Rukia's face, brushing his thumb over her swollen lips, and pulled her into a hug.

They stayed that way for several moments. "You can keep scratching my head." Rukia rolled her eyes, but complied, and Ichigo let out a deep sigh. "Mmm. . ."


End file.
